Page 103 of Peacock Me Like a Hurricane

He lifts his head, looking drained, and hisses, “I closed the entire house. It’s a little mental trick I’ve learned: no one gets in physically and only primary mates can contact us mentally. I know that’s something you do on your own, but now we’re both a world away. We need a day like this.”

I nod slowly, agreeing that the outside world is wearing on me. Laying my head on his chest, I let the calming influence of our bond sink in. I’m so fried from all the stress and the problems that have been popping up within my family. Everything is grating on me.

His lips brush my forehead, voice husky as it vibrates over my skin. “For the moment, nothing out there can touch us here, I promise. Anything tries to get in, Talia will deal with it.”

Rubbing my face on his chest, I wrap around him, clutching at him like he’s the only port in my storm. I inhale, breathing in his scent. I feel his nearness, his strength seeping into me, washing away the gray.

~Love you, baby. ~His voice is a whisper, linking us deeply enough that I feel the tiny light of the baby joined in. She’s so strong, so quickly. It is no wonder they set the docs to keep a close eye on my progress.

Feeling the connection echo through me like a healing balm, the ugly of things in the outside world fades. A thought occurs to me and I look up at him. “I think I’m hungry again. Maybe.”

His deep chuckle reverberates in my mind and heart as his hand brushes over my cheek.~Preggo broads. Sheesh. ~I feel the laughter again, his teasing tone, and it buzzes through me like warm champagne.~For what? You need me to get you something? ~

“I don’t know yet. I gotta think about it.” Chewing on my lip, I consider for a moment.

His hand rubs over my stomach and he arches a brow at me. “Let me know. I could take you out.”

Snuggling closer, I shake my head, nose wrinkled. “Don’t want to move. I’m too comfy.”

He snorts. “That narrows the lunch menu, puss. There’s me and there’s me.” Pondering for a moment, he reconsiders.“There might be stuff in the fridge. I don’t know the last time your crew was about.”

I shrug. “I’m sure it’s full. Leo won’t let anything get empty. There are too many cooking shows to experiment with, especially since the garden sprouted.”

His phone rings, causing him to curse. “Fucking hell. That’s a Company ring. I have to take this, baby.” Expression apologetic, he scoots out of bed, taking it with him as he walks towards the hallway.

I curl around a pillow, closing my eyes as I feel the doors inside me rattling, pulling at me despite his words. The moment he’s not touching me, they worm past his defenses and start testing mine. I wasn’t lying. Icanclamp them off, but unless I burn the bridge as I did with Rhea and Alistair, they can fight it. They don’t always win, but they put up one hell of a fight.

Angry accusations again. Fuck.

My brow furrows and I tighten around the pillow, trying to block it out and keep it from bleeding in. It’s harder to keep them out since the Winter Incident. Everything about them is so wrong that I can’t always snip the line. The delineation between Wilde and his demon is difficult to control, and that is because I’m so broken there. I manage, but things still slip through. He knows it, too.

Footsteps echo on the parquet floor of the hall and the bed dips as he sits. “What’s with the curling, baby? Is closing the world out not working?”

I shake my head. “Not entirely. Bits and pieces get in occasionally. They’re used to having to find ways in. They’ve gotten craftier.”

He frowns and the shutters bang, opening everything up again, his jaw gritted. “Why am I not surprised? You are never able to walk away from it, are you? You can’t be here and enjoyus—you let them ruin it.” Pushing to his feet, he stalks across the room, growling, “I’m going to work out.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, frustration coursing through me. The bullshit from them is wearing on me and I am so through with this. Everyone sucks.Everyone!

Abandoned, angry, and burned out, I jump off the bed, trudge over to the closet and pull on my clothes. I throw my hair out of the collar of the duster with an aggravated sigh, then stomp over to the nightstand to scribble a note to leave on the bed.

Hungry. Gone to kill something.

With that, I slip out, heading into the gloom outside.

The Cat and the Bird Cross A Line

DELILAH

~Please come home soon, love. I n-need you. ~

My head lifts, staring off into space as I feel him calling for me.

His voice is morose and I sense the heaviness of his heart. Concentrating for a brief second, I get the picture of him sitting, fresh from the shower, draped over an armchair and staring out the bay window. It hits me that he might think I’m not coming home.

Fuck. That was not my intention.

I kick the last leg, doing a breather sweep to ensure that what happened here will not lead to me—at least, not at first. I suppose the Company will figure it out eventually, but an unsolved massacre in the woods in rural America won’t scream ‘agent’. It’s more likely to invoke a serial killer than anything.

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